The One Called Merlin
by Lady-Arrowwood
Summary: Uther takes advice by a strange, old crone he meets in the woods and decides to execute Merlin...again. Minor season 3 spoilers.


**A/N: I don't own Merlin. Sadly.**

Arthur Pendragon cast a sideways glance toward his father, who rode into the forests with him. Neither man had spoken a word since leaving the castle, and Arthur dully wished he'd forced Merlin to come with him. Merlin's ceaseless and inane babbling would be infinitely preferable to the awkward silence that settled over the father and son like a heavy fog. Arthur's keen ears caught the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot. "Father, do you hear that?"

Uther Pendragon nodded vaguely. Arthur mentally winced. Since Morgana's betrayal, it'd taken a great deal of effort for Uther to do _anything _besides nod vaguely. Before long, an elderly woman walked through the forests. She paused and upon spotting the two men, bowed deeply, her long, silver hair brushing against the forest floor. Arthur wondered at the impracticality of that, when the woman spoke in a harsh voice, "My Lords, I bring ill tidings to you."

Arthur let his hand rest on the pommel of his sword. They should've brought knights. He waited for his father to speak, but after several moments' silence, Arthur asked, "What do you mean?"

"My Lord, I overheard a man speaking of a prophecy. He was a sorcerer in my village."

"Sorcerer!" Uther hissed. "Where is he?"

"Dead, my Lord," replied the woman mildly, her pale grey eyes flickering towards the king. "He was a seer, and he gave me a prophecy."

"And what was this?" inquired Arthur.

"He said: the one called Merlin shall attack the one called Uther Pendragon and remove him from his throne."

"Aren't prophecies supposed to rhyme?" deadpanned Arthur.

The woman raised a skeptical eyebrow and gave him an expression that plainly said, "Are you really that dense?"

"Isn't that your manservant?" asked Uther.

"She must mean another Merlin," replied Arthur, snorting. "As if Merlin would—"

"He shall!" declared the woman. "Heed my words, Uther Pendragon!"

"Honestly, _Mer_lin?"

"Arthur! We must leave immediately!" declared Uther.

Arthur blinked in surprise, slightly unnerved by his father's sudden willingness to talk. "Why?"

"Merlin is probably taking Camelot right now! Your servant suggested this trip, didn't he?"

Merlin had, though he'd told Arthur that perhaps he and his father needed 'bonding time'. Arthur had agreed, thinking the fresh air might help his father's mind. Uther immediately urged his horse into a gallop back to Camelot, without waiting for a confirmation from Arthur. The prince followed reluctantly.

In Camelot, Merlin was quietly polishing Arthur's spare sword and humming to himself when several armed men burst into the prince's chambers. Merlin yelped in surprise, dropping the weapon with a loud _clang_! "What are you doing?" he asked.

Merlin stared at the—what was the collective noun for a group of knights? A chivalry? A table? A band? Merlin remained caught up in his little search-for-a-collective-noun game until a knight muttered solemnly, "Poor lad has a mental affliction. We'd best wait until he regains his senses."

"What?" Merlin blurted out.

"You're under arrest," replied Arthur, struggling to position himself in front of his knights.

It took a great amount of bumping and shouting of '_Move_!' before he managed to place himself between Merlin and the knights. "What for?" asked Merlin, trying to recall if he'd done any magic recently.

"For…conspiring against the king."

"_What_? I haven't been conspiring against him!"

"My father says otherwise. He's received word that you have been."

"From whom?"

Arthur looked simultaneously sheepish and regretful. "From an old woman in the forest. She said, '_Merlin will attack the king and remove Uther from his throne_.'"

"Oh? And does Uther normally take political advice from strange women he meets in the woods?"

"Well, no, but this time he is."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I guess because she was old…and old people are wise."

"_What_? Are you _serious_?"

"Yes. Deadly serious, actually—oh. That's a poor choice of words."

"But Arthur, I haven't done anything!"

"Arrest him."

Merlin stared numbly at him as two knights grasped his arms. Several things he could've said—the majority of which were insults—floated about his head. "Arthur, I haven't done anything," he finally said.

"I know," Arthur muttered.

"Arthur, please."

Shaking his head, the prince leaned closer to his servant and whispered, "I'm _trying_, Merlin. Just stay calm. I'll try to talk with my father. Your execution isn't supposed to occur for four days; I have time. Trust me."

"I do trust you."

The guards led Merlin from the room, with Arthur closing the door behind them. The prince sighed and dropped onto his bed, running a hand through his hair. He had a sudden urge to stab something or throw something. It was too bad Merlin wasn't—Arthur winced. Finally, pulling himself together and repeating to himself, "I am a manly man!" he marched to the door and prepared to face his father.

His meeting was a spectacular failure, such a failure, in fact, that Arthur swore the two irritating bards visiting Camelot began composing a song about it. It was a horrid song. Apparently, the only word that rhymed with 'Merlin' was 'Perlin', and Arthur didn't recall knowing anyone named 'Perlin'. He didn't think Merlin knew anyone called that, either. Still, at least they were making an effort.

Arthur had accomplished a lot in the spectacular failure that was supposed to save Merlin's life. He'd managed to be forbidden from seeing Merlin. He'd managed to move Merlin's execution date up two days, and he'd managed to change Merlin's execution from being beheaded to being burned at the stake.

There was a timid knock on the door, and Gwen's soft voice asked, "May I come in?"

"Sure."

Gwen entered the room, shyly shutting the door behind her. "Don't worry; we'll think of something."

"I hope so," muttered Arthur.

"I…um…I mean, he's not being…he's safe for now…isn't he?"

"Well, he's in the dungeons surrounded by guards."

"Guards?" asked Gwen, her voice suddenly filled with alarm.

"Yes, guards."

"But Arthur, what if they're hurting him?"

"Hurting him?"

"Yes, Arthur! Hurting him! Haven't you heard all the stories about pretty boys in prisons?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, wondering if Gwen had, in fact, just called Merlin 'pretty'. Well, Merlin was a girl, so it didn't matter. "I'm sure he's fine," replied Arthur.

"But what if he _isn't_?" Gwen insisted. "What if the guards are torturing Merlin? What if that's the real reason your father refused to let you see him?"

Arthur hesitated and then made a decision. The thought of Merlin being tortured turned his stomach. With a sudden realization, he decided that Gwen was _right_! The guards were torturing Merlin!

**UNSUBTLE LINEBREAK**

"Alright," said Merlin. "What is the collective noun for pirates?"

The cell guard furrowed his brow. "Lot?"

"No, that's terrible. It has to be more…pirate-like."

"Fleet?"

"No, that's just ships. A fury, maybe?"

"Eh…no. What about a band?"

"No, too common. A motley?"

"Sounds like a group of gypsies."

"Hm. It does."

"Scurvy, perhaps?"

"Ew. That's sort of disgusting. Gaius told me about scurvy. It's bad."

"Oh. Huh. What about a…um…a jack?"

"A _jack _of pirates?"

"Oh, never mind. That was stupid."

"Oh, no! It wasn't! Good try. What about a swash?"

"Oh, a _swash_! Like swashbuckling; that's clever!"

"Thank you."

"Oh, er…Mervin?"

"Merlin."

"Marlin?"

"Close enough. What?"

"No, how do you pronounce it? I want to get it right."

"_Mer_-lin."

"Merilyn?"

"No, no. _Mer_-lin."

"_Mar-_line?"

"Er…um, yes. Exactly. Now what were you asking?"

"What's a swash?"

"A layer of water, or something? Or…maybe it's that little symbol thing over words? One of the two."

"Oh. Huh. That's smart, _Mer_line."

"Say, any chance you'll let me out? It's rather cramped in here; I want to stretch my legs."

"Are you sure you won't run away?"

"I promise."

Merlin gave the guard his very best I'm-so-cute-and-harmless gaze, and with a fond smile, the guard promptly unlocked the cell. "Thank you!" exclaimed Merlin, before breaking into a run.

The guard stared dumbfounded for several moments. "B-but you promised!"

**UNSUBTLE LINEBREAK**

Arthur Pendragon was a knight, and as a knight, he liked to do things with a certain flare—a rather heroic and swashbuckling style, if you will. He swung open the doors to the dungeon, slightly irritated when the gesture failed to make his cape billow dramatically behind him, and drew his sword. Keeping his back to the wall, he slowly walked sideways down the staircase, while mentally imagining dramatic music.

Upon reaching the bottom step, he leapt to the ground. Oh. He'd forgotten there was another flight of stairs.

Drama inspiration run dry, Arthur dashed down the stairs of the dungeon past the guards, who were sleeping. "Merlin, I'm here to rescue you like the distressed damsel you are!"

Arthur paused. He knew the incompetent guards wouldn't stop him, so he kept preparing a very excellent speech to say should he ever have to rescue a damsel from the dungeons in Camelot. It was best to be prepared for those sorts of things, after all. Briefly, he considered not bothering, but he'd worked hard on that speech! He was going to use it—practice! "Oh, my emotionally distraught damsel-in-distress! Fear no longer for thy hero is here! Swiftly and surely, shall I save thee from this horrid prison! Then, I shall sweep thee off thine feet and…um…" Arthur paused, wondering if he _really _wanted to declare his intentions of sweeping Merlin off his feet, romantically throwing him on a white horse, and leaving Camelot together for a happily ever after, while proclaiming his eternal love.

That might make things awkward.

He'd just wait for Gwen to be accused of sorcery again. "So…uh, right! Here I come, Merlin!"

He halted abruptly at the dungeon cells. "Merlin? Merlin, I went through all this effort to be dramatic and rescue you. If you've escaped, I swear I will throw you in here forever!"

**UNSUBTLE LINEBREAK**

Merlin ran through the corridors of Camelot, dodging around the knights chasing him. They seemed quite angry that he'd escaped, well, most of them. Lancelot kept trying to distract the knights by fainting. Gwaine ran beside Merlin, grinning and laughing. "Oh, I've _missed this_!" the knight exclaimed.

Percival watched with a bemused expression, while Elyan decided to try to improve his tolerance to alcohol, and Sir Leon brushed his hair. Arthur kept running around screaming, "_Mer_lin! You are so dead when I get you! I'm going to wring your scrawny neck!"

Gaius ran behind them, shouting, "Stay away from my ward!"

As they ran, Morgana jumped from behind a pillar. "Ha! I know your secret, Merlin!"

Merlin attempted to run past her, but caught his jacket on the hilt of the sword at her side, which resulted in him dragging her along with him. Morgause stood by the throne room, a falcon on her shoulder. She yelled in surprise as everyone crashed into her, sending Merlin sprawling face-first on the throne room floor, with Gwaine landing on top of him.

There was a fierce clattering of armor and a screech. Morgause's falcon, startled, flew from her shoulder and into Uther's incredulous face, causing him to jump to his feet and trip over his throne. Gwaine grasped Merlin's arm and pulled him away from the group of stumbling, angry, and armed knights. Merlin clumsily stumbled forward, kicking Morgana in the face and rendering her unconscious. "_Sister_!" shouted Morgause. "We've lost the element of surprise!"

The two sisters vanished. "Get Merlin!" one of the knights shouted.

"Execute him!" cried Uther.

"Wh-what?" shouted Merlin.

"Hold on!" Gwaine exclaimed. "Haven't you figured it out? A _merlin_ removed Uther from his throne!"

He indicated to Morgause's bird, sitting in the rafters. "Oh…" said Arthur. "I…I see."

Looking flabbergasted, Uther nodded in agreement. "Merlin—"

"Merline!" corrected Merlin's former guard.

"Merline," said Uther.

Merlin resisted the urge to groan and waited for what sounded shockingly like a coming apology. Instead, Uther turned to Gaius. "Merline is like a son to you. I'm…I'm…er, regretful—sort of—for threatening to execute your ward…um, again."

Gaius nodded in acknowledgement. There was an uncomfortable silence. "Well, is that…it, then?" asked Arthur.

"Does this mean we don't get to kill him?" a voice piped up from the back.

Gaius sighed. "I'll be at the tavern."


End file.
